With Only My Pillow To Hold Onto
by Fly This Way
Summary: Rewriting for a competition of my original story. It's been almost two months since the 2nd Wizarding War ended, and George is still locked up in his old room, the memories put on replay in his head. WARNING: Deathly Hallows spoilers!


**A/N:** Well, sorry for not updating my other story. I've been busy writing this for PotterCon 2010's fanfic contest. This is an edited version of the rushed oneshot I posted a few months ago. It is VERY edited. You'll only recognice small parts. Well, well. It won't be too long before next chappie is up there. This is a ONESHOT, and I do not plan to continue with it. Every review is highly appriciated. Please bear in mind that english is not my native language, and there will probably be some spelling mistakes.

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any items associated with the series.**

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_He was running as fast as he could down the almost destroyed, deserted hallways. Blood was running freely down his arm, but he couldn't think of that, or anything else as he jumped over a broken statue that was blocking the stairway down to his destination. As Lord Voldemorts terrifying voice rang through the whole castle, he reached the great hall. It was chaos. He looked over the huge mass of people. Then he heard no more. People were screaming and crying, though all the death eaters had moved out of the castle. But he didn't hear any of this. He only heard his own heart beating furiously in his chest, and his head pounding with it. He fought his way over the room; how he managed it, he couldn't understand, with the way his legs felt like they were going to break down under him. He heard a piercering scream, but it was distant. Everything seemed like it was far away._

_Suddenly, a creeping feeling spread over his back. It fought it's way to his arms. His legs. His head. The feeling spread coldness everywhere it touched. Emptyness. Then, when it reached his chest, everything was completely clear. Clear, cold and empty._

"_No." he heard himself say. "No." He sank down on the floor and ran his hands through the flaming red hair of the boy laying there. His skin was ice cold, just like the insides of himself. His eyes were closed, like he was sleeping. Peaceful. But how could cold be peaceful?_

"_Fred..." he choked. He pressed his forhead to his twins as sobs ripped through his whole body. Tears were running down his face, trippling onto the frecled face that was Fred's. A face which he would never see a smile form on once more. A face which eyes would never again glitter as a plan formed in his head. A face that was so like his own._

His breath was shaking, and he tried to dig his fingers into the sink as the memory filled his mind. He backed into the wall and fell to the floor with a thud. He choked on his own breath as he was trying to clear his mind from everything. Then he screamed.

"George?" he heard through the door. A concerned voice. "Are you ok?"

"Yes mum... I'm..." He couldn't find the right word. He was fine? No, that would be lying. He sighed.

"Well, honey... Will you come down? We're missing you. And Angelina is here."

"Yeah..." He heard her walking away and looked up, only to find his own face staring back at him. He let out a strangled cry and drew his fist back. The mirror broke and small pieces of glass flew around the room as he punched the mirror in anger and frustration.

"WHY THE HELL DID YOU LEAVE ME HERE!" he shouted, tears running freely down his face. He made his way back to his room, his legs shaking with the weight his mind seemed to put on them. He slowly opened the door and sank down on the bed, new tears blurring his sight.

"Where is he, Molly?" Angelina asked.

"Up in his old room still I think... I asked him to come down." Angelina stood up and walked up the many stairs. Her heart breaked a little at the sight of the sign on the door. *Gred and Forge. Enter at own risk.* She knew George couldn't bear to take it down. A tear slowly slid down her narrow face, and she could taste the salt on her tounge as it glided over her lips.

She closed her eyes and opened the door slowly, peering inside the dark room. George was sitting in his bed, staring out the window. The moon was shining behind light clouds, casting a glowing light inside the room, making the shadows dance across the walls like ghosts.

"George?" she asked carefully. He slowly turned his head to look at her. His eyes was red, swollen, shining with the tears that were streaming over the dark sircles under his eyes and down on his sheets. His face was wet, and she could see dark salt water stains on the pillow he was clutching hard to his chest.

She couldn't take it anymore. She ran over to him and started sobbing, holding him in her arms while he was shaking with tears.

"Angelina..." George said, his voice breaking at the end of her name. "H-help me... I c-can't do thi-is."

"Shhh... George... Calm down... Please..."

"I j-just... I c-an't Ang... I r-really can't t-take it."

"Just, go to sleep George. I'll be here. You need to sleep."

And he did. Knowing that dreams was the worst reality. It was where he relived the moments he was trying to forget. Where every breath haunted him like a ghost. Always hanging over him...

_He was soaked from head to toe, his shoes covered in mud from the long walk through the graveyard. His hair was dripping with the rain water, trailing down his face, mixing with the salt water that was leaking from his eyes._

_He held his head up high, not wanting to look down at the stone. Not wanting to realize that he really was gone. But he had to. The pain was unbearable. Just one word from his mouth would tighten his throat, rip his chest open. Just one look in the mirror would knock him down to the floor, gasping for the breath he didn't feel like he deserved. _

_He forced his head down. _

**Rest In Peace**

**Fred Weasley**

**1978 – 1998**

**Beloved son, brother, friend and prankster till the end**

**We will always miss you**

_He felt his knees buckle under him, and collapsed with a scream. Sobs ripped through him, once again. He got used to it. However, he couldn't get used to the empty feeling. It was always there. Haunting him._

_Leaning his forehead against the cold stone, he drew a deep, shaking breath. The only sounds was his ragged breath as he tried to steady himself enough to speak._

_ "F-fred... I miss you. Why couldn't it be m-me. You didn't deserve to d-die." he cried. His hand was shaking as he layed it over the stone._

_A cold feeling spread through him at the feeling that he was being watched. The cold rain dripping on his face made him feel as though they washed away every good feeling. _

_ "Fred... I c-can't do this withou – " he turned quickly around as a cold pressure was layed on his shoulder. But there was no one there. The voice he thought he had heard wasn't anything but the wind that made the trees sway, and the leaves rattle._

_ "FRED, I CAN'T DO THIS!" he screamed._

George awoke with a startle.

Looking around the room, he saw the empty bed beside his. Putting his head in his hands, he gripped his hair and screamed again.

The door was thrown open, and Angelina stormed in, his mother in her heals. He felt arms being wrapped around him as a sickening feeling spread to his stomach, and he threw up over the floor.

"Sorry..." he sobbed quietly.

"Don't worry, dear." Mrs. Weasley said to him, gesturing for Angelina to take him out of the room to get him cleaned up, and she lead him to the bathroom. She locked the door, and turned to him. He was sitting on the floor, head in hands, sobbing quietly.

"Sorry..." he cried. "I'm so sorry."

"Shh, it'll be ok, George. We only need to get you cleaned up." she tried to sooth him, putting her arms around him. She flinched every time he screamed. Tears in her eyes, she whispered quietly to him, rubbing his back.

"I'M SORRY FRED!" he screamed in a terrified voice. "I'm so sorry..."

Angelina looked at him incredulously.

"You're blaming yourself, George?" she whispered to him.

"It's my fault! It should've been me! Not him! He can't just disappear... I can't just... I c-can't just s-sit here doing n-nothing..."

" It is NOT your fault. Nothing can bring him back. Please, just... I know you miss him... We all do... But, please... Do me a favor." she said, new tears forming in her eyes. "Do NOT blame yourself. He wouldn't have wanted it. I miss him so much, George. And you're not making it better."

"I'm s-sorry." he sobbed, looking up at her.

"Don't be." she said, lifting herself up from the floor. "I think you need to be alone for a bit now... Just... Just know I'm always there if you need to talk."

George grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"Thank you... For everything..." he whispered. She smiled a bit at him, hugged him tightly, and walked out of the door.

George sank back down on the floor, and suspressed a sigh that turned into a sob.

He didn't know where to go from here. He just needed his twin.

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**A/N: **Leave a review? They're the things that keeps me going. *hugs*


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